Monday, December 22, 2008

So cold the air smells of ice…

This is the kind of weather my sorta-beagles hate. They both are reluctant as hell to go outside and take care of their bitness, so this bitch has to keep a careful watch on them lest they find a warm corner and turn it into their personal dawg toilet. But one dawg's frigid torture is another dawg's dream come true…Sweetie the three-legged chow mix is thrilled that her thick fur can now be put to use and she’s taken to lounging on the back porch, nose held high as the bitter wind blows.

My first thought was about the responsibility of reporting back to a bitch…since I’m now an investor…on where the fuck my money is going, but that quickly gave way to a fierce wave of what-the-fuck pissed off wonder.

If banks aren’t keeping track of what they are doing with bailout cash, how the fuck are we going to evaluate whether the bailout infusion of cash accomplished anything?

Oh wait.

I get it.

There was a plan hidden within the lack-of-specifics non-plan bailout plan after all.

And trusting The Man with cash is like trusting a cold-hating, pee hording sorta-beagle to do the right thing.

Oh, they may surprise a bitch and go to the door, but odds are they’re trying to wait my ass out so they can pee on the carpet and stay warm while doing it when my ass is not paying attention.

5 comments:

Clifton the retriever had to be forced down the back stairs last night, and I had to stand there shivering with him to make him use the yard for what God intended (as opposed to the Christmas Tree, which has confused more than one dog in my past.) Meanwhile as we're freezing our tails off, Lucy the Akita is bouncing around like a demented antelope, digging her muzzle through the snow and begging us, tail wagging, to come play. Clif couldn't run up those stairs to get back inside fast enough, and Lucy had to be hollered at to get her fuzzy ass inside NOW!

I realized that while I missed having a dog, I don't, one bit, miss shivering while standing on a frigid back porch and yelling "Just go, already!" as the dog solemnly inspects the ground for the perfect place to honor with his pee and poo. (sigh) And he always acted like I was forcing him out the door into torture and misery when I took him out, too.

One last burn for half a trillion, give or take, from Bush and Co. These boys never met a blank check to their buddies that they wouldn't sign. Wouldn't be surprised to see one or two more "bailouts" before the inauguration rolls around either.